


Putting on a Show

by DirtyKnots



Series: Kinktober 2017 [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Comeplay, Consensual Kink, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Felching, Full Shift Werewolves, Knotting, M/M, Rimming, Unnegotiated Kink, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/pseuds/DirtyKnots
Summary: Kinktober 2017 - Day 24: Exhibitionism/VoyeurismPrompt: anonymous said: I love your bestiality/xenophilia fics. Is there any chance of you continuing your story New Pack or writing something else soon?Prompt: anonymous said: Can you do any more of Stiles with the pack of wolves? The idea is so hot.





	Putting on a Show

**Author's Note:**

> They don't discuss what's going to happen until after Stiles arrives. He is fully consenting as soon as he's aware of what's being asked of him, and Derek tells him that they can stop at any time. Everything that actually happens is consensual.

It's been a week since that night in the woods, since Derek watched Stiles take a pack of wolves before taking him himself while fully shifted. A week of no contact at all, and Stiles is beginning to think it was all a dream. Well, not being fucked by the pack - he knows that's real because it wasn't the first time. But of Derek taking him, then allowing Peter to fuck him. That was maybe a dream. Maybe he choked on a wolf knot and knocked himself out. It's possible. More possible than Derek somehow finding him, finding him and not being disgusted at catching him fucking animals. Or...that's what he thinks until his phone finally rings Friday night.

“Did you like being watched, Stiles?” He doesn't ask who it is, doesn't have to. Instead he feels a shiver run down his spine at the low tone, the dark curls of interest he can hear.

“Yes.”

“Did you like it because it was me, or would you have liked it no matter who it was?” Stiles’ heartbeat speeds up a little, he wants to say it was just because it was Derek, but he forces himself to think about the answer, knowing Derek wants the truth.

“Both, I think. I'm glad, glad you were watching, but I think…” Stiles trails off, face burning.

“Tell me.”

“Yes,” Stiles voice is a bare whisper in the darkness of his room, “I think it wouldn't have mattered, as long as whoever watching was into it. I liked it. Being watched.”

“Good,” Derek's voice is warm. “Your dad is gone tomorrow night right? All night?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Come to the old house. Bring an overnight bag. Make sure you're ready to go.” Derek hangs up before Stiles can even agree, confident that the answer will be yes. Stiles thinks about calling back, saying no, demanding more information first. But, really, the answer isn't going to be no. Not now that he's sure he didn't dream anything. He wants to see what Derek has planned.

He spends the rest of the night tossing and turning, nerves and anticipation thrumming through him. When morning finally comes, he manages to reign himself in to have a semi-normal breakfast with his dad before retreating back upstairs. He tries to focus on school work, and then the bestiary when that fails to keep his focus. He has a brief lunch with his dad, promising to wake him from his nap on time for his shift at the station, and then going back to his room to avoid the inevitable questions about why he's so fidgety. 

After waking up his dad, Stiles slips into his bathroom, thoroughly washing and then digging out his best lube and the plug he'd had to buy from three towns away. He doesn't waste time playing, just methodically fingers himself open, adding excess lube before slipping the plug into place. His body feels on fire by the time he's in his room, packing an overnight bag. His dad had left when he was still showering, so he checks the house to make sure it's locked down and then gets in the jeep and heads to the preserve.

By the time Stiles is winding through the last curve before he reaches the old Hale house, he's nearly talked himself into turning around several times, convinced once again that he imagined how amazing last weekend was. He only manages to keep going when he thinks about the phone call from the night before, about the heady feeling he'd gotten at hearing the want in Derek's tone. And then the house is coming into view, not yet fully restored but definitely being worked on, new outer walls already erected. There are other cars parked in front of it, and more nerves curl through his belly even as he parks. Derek steps off the porch as he exits the jeep, strides over to meet him.

“Derek - what's…” Stiles trails off, hand waving to indicate the other cars.

“Do you trust me?” It's a heavy question, but Stiles doesn't hesitate to nod his answer. Derek smiles brightly at him before his expression dips back down as his nostrils flare, pupils enlarging. “You got yourself ready?”

“You told me to.”

“Good. Good bitch.” Stiles’ belly twists with heat at the words, heartbeat ratcheting up for an entirely new reason. “Gonna give you what you need, don't worry.” Stiles nods again before Derek leans close, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You can say no, whenever you want, for whatever reason, okay?”

It's the softest Derek's been since he found Stiles in the woods, and it makes him swallow hard, some of the nerves creeping back in until Derek shifts his hips and Stiles can feel how hard he is, straining inside his jeans. And Stiles? He wants to know what has Derek so hard already, what he's got planned. So he nods once more and then speaks.

“Wanna be your good bitch, alpha.” Derek rumbles out a noise that sounds like approval before he reaches past Stiles', retrieving his overnight bag from the jeep and pushing the door closed. His free hand moves to the small of Stiles’ back and he leads him up to the house, steering him towards the hall when they walk in, away from the living room. He puts a finger to his lips as he guides him to a nearly finished guest room, dropping his bag by the door before closing it. 

“Strip.” Stiles obeys easily, toeing out of his shoes and letting his clothes puddle to the floor. Derek eyes him appreciatively, hand rubbing over the obvious bulge in his jeans before he comes back to himself. “Turn around, let me see your knot hungry pussy.” 

Stiles flushes but turns, bending and spreading his cheeks, showing off the end of the plug. He doesn't think he imagines the sharp intake of breath he hears, but he stays where he is, feels the air shift as Derek moves up behind him. There's no warning before Derek grabs the end of the plug and yanks it free, making Stiles’ ass clench in the cool air. There's a thunk as the plug is tossed away and then there are three fingers pushing into his hole, twisting and spreading.

“Good, so nice and wet for me already. If I didn't have plans I'd tie you right now, ride your pussy hard, watch you hang off my knot. But, I have better plans first. Stand back up.” Stiles shudders and straightens up again, Derek's fingers shifting with the movement, still pressed deep in his hole. There's the sliding sound of cloth and then something is draped over Stiles’ shoulder. “Put it on.” Stiles reaches up and grabs the cloth, making a questioning noise when he sees it's a soft mask.

“I have some special guests, didn't think you'd want them to recognize you on the street after tonight, but it's up to you.” Derek's voice is warm in his ear and Stiles takes a deep breath before sliding the cloth over his face, tying it on tight enough that it won't slip. When he's done, Derek gives one last deep thrust of his fingers before slipping them free of Stiles’ hole, wiping the lube off on Stiles’ ass cheek.

“Follow me.” He leads Stiles back down the hall and into the living room, stepping to the side so Stiles can take it all in. There are three folding chairs in a semicircle around a mattress that has been placed in the middle of the room. There's a man in each of the chairs, and a dog held on a leash by each of the men. Stiles’ heart picks up as he realizes why they're there, and he can't help the way his cock twitches. He thinks he recognizes the men from around town, but it's hard to tell in the dimness. There's a light, but it's focused on the mattress, not on the rest of the room. He can just make out Peter, standing behind the semicircle of chairs, the only man aside from Derek who doesn't have a dog with him. 

The dogs are...beautiful. There's really no other way for Stiles to describe them. All three are large breeds: a husky, a shepherd, and a mastiff. He glances between them, sees the way their tongues loll out of their mouths, shifting with their panting breaths. He watches three noses twitch at the new smells he brings with him, can see hard sheaths and the bright red tips of doggy cocks poking up out of them. When he turns to look at Derek, the man is smirking, eyes fixed on Stiles’ hard cock.

“Knew you'd like your surprise. After I saw what a horny little dogslut you were, I thought I'd make some calls. My friends here all have good studs, but there's a surprising lack of bitches for breeding here in town. They were all so happy to hear I had the perfect one. Promised to let me use their studs if they could watch. And we know how much you like an audience.” Derek's voice has gone dark and Stiles shivers once more at the sound of his voice. He doesn't wait to be told, just slinks forward, dropping to his knees when he reaches the mattress and crawling forward until he's in the middle of it, shoulders crashing into it and back arched so his ass is in the air. He can hear chuckles from the men around him but he doesn't care, just makes sure he's turned so his ass is facing the men and their dogs, spreading his cheeks to show his empty, glistening hole.

“Please.” His voice is soft, raspy with want.

“Shh, don't worry, we'll get that bitch pussy filled. Mark, why don't you let Ghost go.” Stiles tilts his head to look behind him, sees the first man unhooking the leash from hi husky's collar. He thinks maybe he whines when the dog moves forward, nose sliding up his cleft and tongue coming out to swipe at his empty hole. Stiles doesn't stop himself from winking it open and closed, dropping his hips a little lower. The dog takes the cue and shifts around, hopping onto his back and hunching over him, hips pistoning even as it's cock starts to flop out of the sheath. Stiles reaches back to help steady it, pushing a hand between their bodies, moaning at the soft brush of fur before he gets it around that long cock and slides it up, pressing the tapered tip against his hole. He moves his hand out of the way on the next thrust, crying out when Ghost drives in hard, battering at his prostate before shifting to rut into him fast and hard. The movement forces him deep, but his doggy cock only glances off of Stiles’ prostate a few times. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't want to come yet anyhow.

Stiles moans and writhes, mouth muttering out praise to Ghost as the animal fucks him. He can hear the other two dogs, panting harder at the display. He can also hear the clanking of belt buckles as the men looking on get interested too. It makes something in him preen with satisfaction, knowing that they're watching him take a dog's cock, that they're getting hard from it. He shifts his knees a little wider, tenses his body and begins rocking back into the thrusts, feeling the knot at the base of the dog's cock swelling, tugging at his rim with each thrust until it finally pops in and locks them together. 

“Spread those cheeks bitch, let them see you hanging off that doggy cock.” Stiles is panting as he clenches down rhythmically on the knot, milking it, but he obeys, pulling his cheeks as far apart as he can, doesn't stop the clench and release. “Good bitch, milk that cock. Get all that hot doggy come deep inside your pussy. Make sure he breeds you up good.” Stiles makes a strangled noise at Derek's words, clenching down harder on Ghost's cock before the dog is pulling back, twisting until they're ass to ass, his knot tugging against Stiles’ rim. He does his best to relax, hears the owner soothing the dog so it doesn't pull too hard as it tries to free the knot. Even with the help, the tugs are strong, and Stiles can feel himself slide an inch across the mattress with the force of one. He can't stop the moan he lets out as it happens, or the way he flushes, his cock leaking a new bead of precome, when Derek laughs darkly in his ear.

“You really are a dog bitch, enjoying when he yanks you around with his cock. Maybe I'll let one of them walk you around the house, lead you by your ass while it explores.”

Stiles makes another noise, but it's swallowed by the squelching pop as Ghost finally dislodges himself, sending thin dog come sliding down Stiles’ legs, tickling over his balls. Derek stays kneeling next to him as Ghost's owner retrieves home, puts him back on his leash.

“The shepherd next, Swat right? Gotta make sure your pussy gets nice and stretched before we let Bruce have you. I think his cock might just be bigger than mine.” Stiles can see a mock pout on Derek's face before the man is laughing again and leaning down to his ear. “You're gonna like this one, he's thicker than Ghost, but younger. You're his first bitch, he's not supposed to have them, but Deputy Warren here doesn't mind breaking a rule or two. Has always wanted to watch a bitch get pounded by a police dog. Swat is one of Beacon Hills’ finest new deputies.” Stiles’ breath catches but it doesn't stop his cock from leaking, and now he understands why Derek gave him the mask. It doesn't obscure his features completely, but it should be enough. He's surprised, just a little, that he hadn't recognized the deputy when he'd walked in, but the lights are dim and he had been more focused on the dogs and the scene.

Swat spends more time with his muzzle at Stiles’ ass than Ghost had, snuffling up his crack, lapping at his leaking hole, digging his tongue in and scooping out Ghost's come. By the time he hops up, Stiles is whining, rocking his hips and practically begging the dog to fuck him, fill him up, breed his bitch ass. Swat mounts him and fucks him hard and fast. His cock is thicker, filling Stiles better, but it's over far sooner, knot locking them together and leaving Stiles whining. 

“Don't worry, Bruce won't be so quick. He's got more experience, he'll give it to you hard and deep, just like you need. Stuff you full with his dirty doggy dick, grind that fat knot inside you. He's gonna fill you up until you look pregnant, get your belly nice and round. And when he's done, you're gonna flip over and I'm gonna watch him sit on your face. Gonna watch you tongue his furry hole while Peter fucks you. Show everyone what a desperate doggy slut you are. Then Bruce is gonna fuck you again. His owner told me he can go twice, has before. This isn't his first time with a human bitch. Gonna let him mount you while I ride your face. Gonna watch you rut into his furry belly.” Stiles whines, hole clenching around Swat's softening knot, whimpering a little when it pops free. There's a jangle of collars as his owner hooks him back up.

“Bruce, mount.” The command comes from somewhere behind Stiles, a voice he doesn't recognize, and it's barely out before there's a heavy weight landing on his back. Derek wasn't lying, Bruce really must have plenty of experience because there's no seeking thrusts, one minute Stiles is empty and leaking, the next he's being stuffed full. Bruce's cock is long and thick, the tapered end hitting against his prostate with damn near precision thrusts. Stiles rocks back into them, crying out, shaking and shuddering at the overwhelming sensations of being so full, bristly fur scraping against his skin. His cock is leaking copiously and he almost comes when he feels Derek give him a good stroke, before startling at the sudden sting as a band is wrapped around the base of his cock.

“Can't have you going off yet, not done with you.” Derek's voice is a low pant in his ear, and Stiles pries his eyes open at the metallic clinking of Derek's belt. He watches as Derek strips down, tossing his clothes free of the mattress. His cock is hard and flushed, precome beading in his foreskin. Stiles makes a hungry sound, licks his lips, and Derek shifts back to his knees, shuffles closer. “Go ahead, have a taste.”

It takes more effort than it should, the dog on his back heavy and thrusting hard, but Stiles manages to get his palms underneath him, lift himself enough to wrap his lips around Derek's cock, tonguing at his foreskin, sucking on it greedily. It spurs Bruce on harder, his thrusts forcing Stiles' mouth down further each time until he's practically choking on it. He can feel spit sliding down his chin, feel the way his eyes are prickling and watering even as he keeps slurping at Derek's cock, trying to relax his throat as Bruce reams him with his doggy cock. He loses track of time as he's shoved onto Derek's cock, over and over, doesn't realize Bruce's knot is swelling until one particularly hard thrust forces it past his rim, making him scream around Derek's cock. It's fat, fatter than the others had been, and he can feel it spreading him, rubbing along his inner walls, pressing hard into his prostate. Derek's cock is so far down his throat his vision is going spotty before he yanks himself free, tilting Stiles’ face up and smirking at his dazed expression. 

“How does it feel? Go on, tell your admirers.” Derek tips his chin and Stiles can see all three men standing, shifted so they could watch him get taken from both ends while they stroke their cocks.

“Feels s'good. S'full.” His voice is wrecked, raspy and unrecognizable.

“You should thank them, don't you think?” Stiles nods.

“Thank you.” Derek turns his head back briefly so Stiles can see his arched brow. “Thank you for letting me be a doggy bitch,” Derek smiles and twists his head back to face the men, “thank you for letting them breed my pussy. M'so needy. Needed their doggy cocks, their doggy come. Needed to be breed like a good bitch.” Derek makes a rumble of approval and lets Stiles slump forward until his torso is pressed into the mattress. Derek shuffles down a bit until he can see where Bruce is still buried inside of Stiles, fingers gently probing at his rim, enjoying the slow leak of the thin come around the softening knot. Bruce was well-trained, didn't shift or move as his knot pulsed out it's last few spurts, wasn't at all bothered by Derek's fingers pressing against it as he spread Stiles’ cheeks as wide as he could. When the knot was small enough for trails of come to slide down Stiles' ass, Derek glanced at Bruce's owner, and the man smiled before giving the dog a new command.

“Bruce, off.” Derek watched from up close as Bruce dismounted, his knot popping free with a wet squelch, droplets of come splattering around. Stiles panted heavily, his hole clenching on the open air, but he didn't move or protest being empty. 

“Such a good doggy bitch. Roll over.” He released Stiles’ ass and helped him turn onto his back, immediately yanking his legs up in the air, propping his ass up. “Peter.” Derek doesn't have to say anything else to get the man moving. Peter's already naked, cock hard and leaking as he steps up and squats, angling his cock towards Stiles' hole. The tip is just kissing Stiles’ pucker when he stops to wait, eyes fixed on Derek. Derek flicks his gaze to Bruce's owner, watches him gesture to the dog. Stiles, for his part, is still panting, arms out to his sides, glancing at the men around him before Bruce moves again and he remembers Derek's words. “Still good?” Derek's words are low, pitched for Stiles’ ears, and he nods his agreement, takes in a shuddering breath before tilting his head back against the mattress so his mouth is angled higher. Bruce steps over him at a another gesture from his owner.

“Bruce, sit.” There's a hitch in the man's voice that belies what he'd told Derek about how often this had been done, makes him think it never has before. He'd be mad, but he can smell Stiles’ arousal, so instead he throws out a sharp “go” at Peter, turning his attention to where the dog is shifting to follow his owner's command. Derek moves so he can see Stiles’ face as the dog's ass lowers, catches the way he flops his tongue out. The dog doesn't settle all it's weight, there's a bare bit of air, and Stiles makes a noise before he leans up into it, tongue laving over the furry pucker. 

“Taste good?” Derek leans closer, one hand reaching down to stroke Stiles’ cock as he watches Stiles’ tongue begin to flick out fast against Bruce's hole, occasionally pushing inside. “Look at you, so needy. Gonna fuck his furry hole with your dirty little tongue? Bet you wish it was your cock in there, don't you? Wish you could feel that doggy ass part for you, swallow your load. Go on, use your tongue like it was a cock, fuck his furry ass with your mouth.” 

Stiles’ cock leaks all over Derek's hand, the cockring the only thing stopping him from coming. Distantly, Derek's aware that Peter is fucking into him. Can hear the slick sounds of his cock pumping in and out of Stiles’ sopping hole, but his attention stays on Stiles’ face, on the way he points his tongue and begins spearing it in and out of Bruce's hole. It looks and sounds so filthy, Stiles grunting on each inward thrust, sucking on the dog's rim. Derek's own cock is so hard it almost hurts, and he's already reevaluating the plan when he realizes Peter is groaning and finishing, adding to the mess in Stiles’ ass. He can hear the slap of skin on skin as the men jerk themselves off, can smell as they finish, one after the other. When he finally looks up, he can see that Bruce is still barely coming down from having fucked Stiles earlier and Derek's impatience wins out.

“Dave, I think we'll have to try for two rounds another day.” He gestures to the dog and Dave nods. 

“Bruce off.” Derek stands and reaches out with his cleanest hand, offering it to shake, glancing over to make sure Peter is keeping Stiles’ ass upright. 

“Thanks for coming, I'll be in touch about another visit.” He's distracted as he ushers the men and their dogs out, forgetting he's even naked until the door shuts behind them and he turns back, taking in Stiles’ red face, smeared with his own spit. Derek makes his own hungry sound then before stalking forward, bones cracking as he shifts into his wolf form. He growls softly at Peter when he reaches the mattress, gets an amused huff before his uncle dismounts, helping keep Stiles’ ass tilted up even as Derek clambers over him, tapered cock bobbing. In this form, Derek can smell the claim left by the other dogs, and it drives his wolf on, he's thrusting almost before he's in place, grumbling when Peter reaches down to grasp him and angle him properly. Stiles yells when he bottoms out and Derek rumbles what sounds like a purr, hunching his body so he can lap at Stiles’ cock, growling in Peter's direction when he tastes the rubber and realizes he forgot to remove the cockring in his haste.

“Calm down nephew, I've got it.” Peter reaches over and slips the ring off carefully, earning a gasp from Stiles as more blood rushes to his already aching cock. “Now, you didn't quite get your wish earlier, but I think I can help with that. Kiss your bitch Derek, I know he wants it.” Derek's eyes narrow at the first half of the statement, but he agrees with the rest, so he turns his attention to Stiles, stretching out over him, fur to skin, until he can lick at Stiles’ face, into his mouth. The taste is musky, and it's clear he's been licking a dog's ass, but Derek doesn't mind it at all, just laps at him, purring more when Stiles begins licking back.

He almost forgets Peter's there as he hunches his hips, humping Stiles while trying not to lose access to his mouth. Almost until there's a warm wetness lapping at his own furry hole. He can feel Peter's tongue wriggling against him, pushing past the tight ring before sliding further down, over his fuzzy balls, face pushed between his hind legs until he can reach Derek's sheath, mouthing at the length. When he finally hits the skin around the base of Derek's cock, it makes him buck harder into Stiles, Peter's tongue following the path and licking at where they're joined, tongue catching the trails of come being pushed out by Derek's thrusts.

The dual sensations - the heat and wet from Stiles’ ass and the cool line Peter licks up his cock on every outward pull has Derek's knot swelling rapidly until it's popping in and sticking. He grinds his hips as best he can in this form, knowing his knot is pressing against Stiles’ prostate, the fur of his belly giving his cock friction as Stiles rocks against him, clenching around him. It doesn't take long at all before he's crying out, cock spitting come all over Derek's fur. Peter's mouth is insistent where it presses against them, tongue flicking over Stiles’ puffy rim, lapping at Derek's knot. He lets it go on for a minute before his bones cracking and he shifts back, the knot disappearing. He can hear and feel the way Peter is slurping at them know that the knot is free and come is flooding out and Derek hums his approval before dipping down and giving Stiles a real kiss.

“You were so good today. So beautiful. Such a good doggy cockslut for me. Loved watching you show off, let everyone see what a needy bitch you are. Will you do it again? Let me find more dogs for you, let them mount your greedy pussy and fill you up? Let their owners watch?” It takes Stiles a moment to focus on him, his cock giving a weak twitch against Derek's belly at the words.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to prompt me if you'd like to see something added to this verse! You can comment anonymously on any of the parts or you can find me on [Dreamwidth](https://dirtyknots.dreamwidth.org/) \- where all of my additional contact locations are linked!


End file.
